


summer blues (ghost in a shell remix)

by softintelligence



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Gen, childhood AU, sort of!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-28
Updated: 2014-08-28
Packaged: 2018-02-15 02:46:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2212809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softintelligence/pseuds/softintelligence
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Boys meets world, boy meets boy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	summer blues (ghost in a shell remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [taikodrum (taiko)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/taiko/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Blue Summer](https://archiveofourown.org/works/617276) by [taikodrum (taiko)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/taiko/pseuds/taikodrum). 



> Kagami and Kuroko are children.

Kuroko was looking out the window, when he saw the other boy: a flash of red hair against the sky, a basketball under his arm. Kuroko pressed his hand against the window, peering outside, watching that red hair move through the park, growing distant. He had never seen someone with hair like that before: bright, like fire. 

"Tetsuya! Are you trying to open the window again!?" His aunt came running, pulling his hands off the windows, and Kuroko let her. The last time he had fought so hard, she had squeezed him tightly enough to leave little rings on his skin where her fingers had grasped his wrists. 

"I'm sorry," he said. "I wanted to look outside."

"Just be careful," his aunt said. "It would be on my conscience if you got sick again."

Kuroko nodded as she dragged him back to his room, where the windows had been sealed shut and it locked from the outside.

\---

He read book after book, his nose pressed so closely to the pages it was almost as though he were eating them. Inside, the characters and letters opened up doors, showed him to places he couldn't go, beyond his small, cramped room. From sitting by the window, watching other children and adults and their dogs and stray cats walk by, he knew it was nothing like the books. Not here, anyway. 

But he dreamed of that red hair, flush against the sky, wondered what the asphalt smelled like, what trees and leaves and flowers felt like. It had been so long, Kuroko wasn't sure he remembered anymore, what exactly it was like to breathe the outside air.

\---

That boy came again. He still had a basketball under his arm. Sometimes, if his aunt and uncle didn't come home from work right away, he could peer outside long enough to see the boy's friends catch up with him. 

Kuroko had to press his face to the glass to watch them play basketball. His fingers itched for it. He wanted to go outside and play, but last time, many bad things had happened, and his aunt would no longer let him leave the house. 

Watching this boy bounce this ball around, laughing so freely, Kuroko couldn't remember the last time he had laughed like that--and he couldn't remember anyone, not even his friends. He was the center of attention, along with another boy. 

Kuroko didn't mind, really. He had his books, and in those books, there were plenty of places to go, to imagine himself going. And even the window was not so bad. He could look outside and watch people. With the knowledge from his books, from the window, from watching his aunt act as though he were not there; there were many things that Kuroko had learned in the small, cramped space of his aunt's house. 

But still: that boy with the red hair. Kuroko wanted to stand in his shadow, catch some of the light flickering off of his shoulders. That light: what would it feel like? 

\---

The red-head hadn't come yet. A tiny sliver of light peeked out from the doorway. 

His aunt had left the doorway open when she had left for work. 

\---

Kuroko had found a spot across the street, on a bench, close enough to look for his aunt's car in case it came. It was in the shade enough that he didn't feel hot, but the sweat was already running down his neck. He felt weak already. 

He did not have to wait long. 

He heard the footfalls in the grass, and his chest tightened. The red-head boy! Kuroko thought of phrases to say, some sort of greeting; it couldn't be "welcome home," they weren't at home, but none of the phrases from the books fit. A simple "hi," maybe--

The boy ran across his sight. Kuroko could only stare, mesmermized. 

It was just a second, but the boy looked back. 

Kuroko almost jumped up.

He'd been noticed! 

Just as he was about to open his mouth, though, the boy ran off, and shortly after, he heard the barking of a dog. 

In the corner of his eye, he saw a round, orange shape. 

\---

The basketball felt good in his hand. Warm, and large, and not alive, but well-used. Kuroko wandered around the park, looking for the red-haired boy. How hard could it be? 

Kuroko ran around the park, his lungs aching in his chest. It felt like an eternity before he found the red-headed boy, looking around frantically. Kuroko had already reherased his lines.

"Here," he said.

The red-head jumped. Kuroko waited for a reaction, but none came. 

"Here," he said again, holding out the ball. 

The red-head looked left and right, and then straight at Kuroko. Kuroko's heart thumped in his chest. He wanted to ask the boy for his name, and how old he was, and his favorite book, and his favorite sport (basketball?), and his favorite everything. 

"Thanks," the boy said. 

Kuroko had so many questions, but he needed more time to think. As quietly as he had came, he slipped off. What to ask? This might be his only chance, and he had to use it well. He didn't want the boy to think that he was ignoring him by staying silent. 

This had to be the best way. 

\---

Kuroko was staring up a tree when he decided, "I will climb this tree." He had talked to someone new, and now, maybe, he needed something else new to help him. 

By the time he reached a branch thick enough to sit on, his arms and legs were covered in scratches and bruises. 

A few minutes later, he saw the red-headed boy running toward the tree. Kuroko had prepared his greeting, but just before he could say it, the red-head was climbing up the same tree and settling onto the same branch. At the base of the tree was a small black and white dog. 

"Excuse me," Kuroko said, staring at the boy again.

"Ha?" The boy looked around, and then, when he caught Kuroko's eye, froze.

"Hello," Kuroko said. 

The boy screamed and fell. Down below, Kuroko watched for several minutes as the dog barked, and finally, after gathering his strength, crawled down the tree. 

Kuroko held his hand out to the dog, who sniffed it, and then licked his palms. Puppies were very cute, he decided, and sat down. The dog crawled into his lap and he began to stroke its fur. He wondered who this dog belonged to: it didn't have a collar, or any other identifying marks. 

"It won't hurt you," Kuroko said. "I read that dogs bark and wag their tails when they're happy." 

The other boy squawked, his eyes wide. Kuroko tilted his head. "What are you doing?"

"N-nothing." He shook his head so fast that Kuroko thought his head would fall off his shoulders. 

"You don't like dogs?" Kuroko asked. 

The boy's face was turning as red as his hair. Kuroko tried to commit it to memory. "A big one bit me once, so . . ." 

"I see," Kuroko said. "But it's cute." He held the dog firmly in his hands and lifted it toward the boy. 

The boy screamed. "No!! No! Please, don't!" 

Kuroko put the dog down. 

"I want to go home," the boy murmured. 

Kuroko nodded, even though he did not understand. He did not want to go home, ever. If he went home now, he would never be able to leave again, and who knew when he would able to see this boy again? He didn't even know his name.

"Taiga!" 

Another voice! More friends!

But just as he was about to formulate another response, he saw a familiar car pull up to his house. 

Kuroko shot to his feet and started to run. 

\---

The front door was locked, but Kuroko managed to crawl in through one of the low-set windows near the living room, but he scratched his knee. 

He bandaged his bruises and cleaned his scratches quietly in the bathroom, bandaging them all. His whole body stung; every move hurt, but he decided it had been worth it. 

"Tetsuya, dinner is ready!" 

Kuroko wandered out deliberately into the living room, taking his seat.

"Tetsuya?" His aunt was shouting. 

"I'm here," Kuroko said. 

His aunt shrieked, nearly dropping the plate she was holding. She held a hand to her chest. "Testuya!" she said. "I thought you were still in your room! Stop scaring me like that!" 

"I'm sorry," Kuroko said, staring at his empty plate. 

"It's fine," his aunt said. "It's just that sometimes you're like a ghost! You have no presence at all."

Kuroko turned his head, looking out the window. The street lamps dimly lit the streets. He wondered if the dog was doing all right. 

"How was your day? What did you read?"

Kuroko looked at his aunt. He wondered when he would finally be allowed to go outside and play basketball. He wasn't as sickly as he used to be. He had pet a dog, and climbed through the window, and even gone up a tree. He had done many things. 

"A short story," Kuroko said. "About two boys and a dog."

"That's nice," his aunt said, continuing to set up the table. "And how did it end?"

Kuroko was still looking outside. 

"Tetsuya?"

"It was sad," Kuroko said, finally. "It was too short."


End file.
